


The First Rays of Dawn

by Yanara126



Series: Waidwen [1]
Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: Abusive Parents, Angst, Cat, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I keep making it worse for them, I'm Sorry, Miscommunication, Pain, Redemption, Religion, Unreliable Narrator, in the field, they're doing their best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:47:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24341560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yanara126/pseuds/Yanara126
Summary: Both gods and kith are fickle creatures, even when they try.Or: Waidwen and Eothas' first hours together.
Relationships: Eothas & Waidwen (Pillars of Eternity)
Series: Waidwen [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1854808
Comments: 11
Kudos: 6





	1. Rigil Kentaurus

**Author's Note:**

> My first multiple chapter story! Now if only it was the funny training story I was intending to write... Oh well, maybe next time. I keep making it worse for Waidwen, as if his life hadn't been shitty enough, but I just can't stop.
> 
> This first chapter is essentially the scene we got in The Bridge Ablaze written out, the other two will be completely original. The story is finished, I only need to revise a bit and am planning on uploading next week and the week after. If I forget, please tell me, I'm a dumbass.
> 
> As always, I'm always happy about every kind of feedback.
> 
> Please enjoy!

Waidwen was sweating. Even though it was already dark, the air was still heavy with the heat of the day and he’d spent the whole day trying to salvage what he could from the harvest. The enduring heat had withered most of it, like it always did. Vorlas didn’t grow well here, but the governor kept demanding they cultivate it anyway, so the farmers switched who’d grow the vorlas and corn each year, so it didn’t always hit the same people. This year it was Waidwen’s turn. He’d made sure to save as much as he could last season, but it still wasn’t much. It never was.

  
Kneeling on the ground, Waidwen drew his sickle through a thin patch of vorlas and lifted the blades up to his face to inspect them. They looked much like the rest of the field, dry and brittle, but a few might still be usable. He picked out the healthier ones, listlessly threw them into his basket and sighed, looking up into the sky, where the last rays of dusk were slowly fading.

  
“We could use some rain to go along with all the sunlight, Eothas. My thanks in advance.” As usual, there was no response, not that he’d really expected one. “And praise to Gaun for what little we have...” he mumbled, words dripping with sarcasm. Wiping the sweat of his forehead he stood up and pulled out his sundial from under his shirt, more out of habit than for actual use. The light had already waned too much to judge the time. He let it dangle from the chain and wondered if the dawn of a better day the priest kept talking about would ever truly rise.

  
“ _Waidwen_.” He flinched and the sundial slipped from his hand, gently hitting his chest. The distant chiming of bells filled his ears, composing a voice like he’d never heard before. A sensation of warmth spread across his back, different from the stifling heat of the season, softer and strangely inviting. He didn’t dare believe the notion.

  
“Who’s... who’s there?” Waidwen asked, doing his best to sound firm, but trembling all over. There was really only one answer, but he’d deny it as long as he could. All these years whishing and cursing, why should now be the time he got an answer?

  
The response was immediate and dashed any doubts he clung to. Daylight blossomed to life all around him, filling the sky with more colours than he’d ever seen. Resisting the pull became impossible and he turned around, shielding his eyes from the blinding light, only it wasn’t blinding. The rays shone even through his fingers, yet it didn’t hurt to look. Hesitantly he let his hands sink and peered into the centre of the phenomenon, where he could just so make out the silhouette of a kith-like figure, that somehow glowed a little brighter than the shine surrounding it. He couldn’t tell how far away it actually was, it seemed both giant and miles away, and about his own size and right in front of his face. He wasn’t sure what he would’ve preferred. Then it spoke again.

  
“ _Do you still thank me for the dawn and the harvest, Waidwen?_ ” The sound drove Waidwen to his knees, the small rocks in the ground burrowing into his skin, leaving bloody patches. He didn’t notice them. The voice hadn’t sounded angry, but he couldn’t tell what it did sound like. The bell chiming that formed the sounds made any inflections unidentifiable. It scared him. More than outright anger might have. He knew anger, he could deal with anger (not a god’s), but this something was unpredictable. He remembered the sermons, how Eothas could supposedly see every part of your soul, everything you ever did, and felt exposed before the god’s brilliance. Every word spoken in hate, every punch thrown first, every time he’d turned his back to the dawn flashed through his mind. All were His to judge now. Waidwen didn’t like the feeling one bit. A spark of defiance flashed through him and he scraped together all the courage he could muster, squaring his shoulders in anticipation.

  
“I won’t plead for mercy. Do what you came to do.” He tilted his head back, presenting his neck, a motion he’d seen repeated too many times in the town square. His muscles wanted to lock down and keep him frozen in fear, but he was done being that little boy that was pushed into the lake, that was never enough. So he summoned up all the anger, all the frustration, every disappointment he’d had to suffer and vowed not to break in the face of the one he blamed for them. 

  
“ _Do you think I’m here to admonish and cast you into the lake? No, I would draw you back to the light for a higher calling._ ” The figure flickered a little, reminding Waidwen of a guttering candle and strangely enough a chuckle. And just like that Waidwen’s resolve broke. Of course He knew. Why wouldn’t He? He tried to resent Him for it, but all the rage and ire slipped off that damned kindness radiating off the being in front of him, leaving only hurt and fear behind. Suddenly Waidwen realized he’d been wrong, that he’d never quite stopped being that child. He was stuck at the lake shore again, vulnerable and alone before a looming, all-powerful presence.

  
“ _Fear not, for you are chosen above all others. You will be the light to bring about the rebirth of an empire._ ” An empire? Chosen? It sounded like gibberish to him, but it was spoken with such tender determination, that Waidwen could feel the terror and dread bleed away, filling him instead with a warmth and confidence he’d never felt before. He’d certainly never been timid, but his life had taught him fast that submission was a necessity for survival. But not anymore. For no one.

  
Tentatively Waidwen stood, peripherally noticing the pebbles stuck in his knees, but not giving them any attention. He knew what the god before him wanted. Or at least what He wanted from Waidwen. Where the knowledge had come from he couldn’t say, but he knew it as surely as he knew, that should he decline, the divinity would leave him alone. Clenching his fists he glared into the brilliance in front of him.

  
“If we do this, we do it as partners.” The figure didn’t outright react, but it didn’t need to, Waidwen felt the approval nonetheless. Along with it, there was something else interlaced with the feeling, but Waidwen couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. It didn’t matter though, for as soon as his mind had settled on the decision to consent, something that his brain automatically classified as a hand, even though it was made entirely of light and barely had a shape, stretched across an enormous distance, or maybe just a hand’s breadth, and was carefully placed on his brow.

  
The sickle he’d unconsciously clutched like a lifeline fell to the ground with a clatter, when his fingers spasmed. The contact of the light with his skin sent agony into every nerve of his body and for a second Waidwen thought he’d been struck by lightning, but then the flood of energy and knowledge and **presence** drowned out the pain, leaving no awareness to waste on the trivial matters of the physical world. There was suddenly so, so much more. 

  
Light filled his vision, until it didn’t. It could have been seconds or hours that passed, but at some point, a part of his very human body gave out and the splendour gave way to darkness. Yet the comfortable warmth that had spread through him stayed. He hardly noticed when his body gave up trying to contain the absurd amount of soul essence suddenly filling it, his own consciousness safely cushioned in the foreign and yet familiar presence.

  
When Waidwen’s body hit the ground, no one noticed. Nobody else was around to see it, and Waidwen himself lost awareness before gravity took hold of him. The colourful spectacle faded away into the night, as if it had never been, leaving only an unconscious young man lying in a field, an overturned basket next to him. The world continued, none the wiser of what had just taken place.

  
And Eothas waited.


	2. Canopus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It appears, I have the patience of a toddler.

When Waidwen woke, he wasn’t sure he’d ever been out in the first place. There was no slow progress of waking up or even a sudden start. One second he wasn’t aware, the next he was, and found himself laying face first in the dirt. He blinked confusedly and carefully flexed his fingers and then his feet, and when he found everything still where it belonged, started to get up.

  
Only to immediately keel over again, when the world split into so many layers and dimensions that he didn’t know which way was up or down anymore. He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut as tightly as he could, pressing his hands into his face for good measure. Everything was pulling at him from all sides and every cell in his body screamed for it stop, whatever it was. Even with his eyes closed, he couldn’t escape it. He could feel every living thing around him tear at his very essence, every worm, every insect, even the half dead plants seemed to claw at him.

  
When something else entered his awareness, it was a relief, until he noticed where it came from. The strange thrum of energy that had hesitantly brushed along his senses was situated somewhere within himself, on a plane of existence he hadn’t even been consciously aware of until then.

  
Waidwen did the only thing he could in that moment. He screamed.

  
The entity started flickering wildly, causing Waidwen to panic even more. Suddenly the presence flinched further into his perception and flooding him with emotions that weren’t his. He choked on them, blindly flailing about, until his senses were enveloped in a strange warmth, that forcibly pushed away his terror. He was left gasping and weirdly empty, not afraid anymore, but feeling like he should be. The emptiness however left him open to those other feelings. Concern and alarm blanketed his own thoughts, pushing him to answer.

  
“What... the fuck... is that?” he choked out, the world still spinning around him with the force of hundreds of small lives and he desperately clawed the ground in search any kind of stability.

  
_That is my perception of the world. I shared it with you._ An all encompassing voice rang through Waidwen’s head, causing another quickly suppressed spike of fear, which in turn made Waidwen cringe at the uncomfortable hollowness. It felt like he forgot something he desperately needed to remember, only a hundred times worse.

  
“Yeah well... stop! And get your hands out of my head!” he growled through the pain, the lack of fear leaving space for a desperate anger, that was strangely left untouched. A small part of him, that sounded suspiciously like his father, told him, he probably shouldn’t be talking to a god like that, but at this point Waidwen couldn’t give a damn anymore about what he should and shouldn’t do.

  
_I do not want you to be afraid._ That answer made Waidwen’s blood boil even more and he completely forgot who he was talking to. 

  
How dare he! How dare he think that would be his choice!

  
“That’s not your decision to make!” The energy in his head tightened and for a second Waidwen thought he’d gone too far. But then the weight lifted and the presence retreated back to the limits of his consciousness. Briefly the panic seeped back in, but with his wishes acquiesced Waidwen found himself calmer than before.

  
As the being receded so did the tug on his essence and the world slowly righted itself. Taking a deep breath, Waidwen blinked and for once took comfort from the feeling of dirt under his cheek. When he was sure everything was normal again, he carefully got up to his knees.

  
Waidwen winced as a light, but stabbing pain shot through his knees and sat down to pluck out the gravel. He took another breath and let the situation sink in. He’d really met Eothas. More than met. Not quite ready to face his own feelings on the matter, he decided to deal with the obvious first.

  
“Are you still there?”

  
_I am._ The voice was quieter than before, not as oppressive. Like the speaker was standing in front of him, instead of sitting on him and screaming in his face. It also had a strange quality to it. Was that... shame?

  
Waidwen shook his head. No, surely that wasn’t it. He licked over lips and swallowed, stalling for time while he tried to call back the courage he vaguely remembered having before.

  
“Okay then... First rule if we do this: No getting into my head uninvited.” The silence that followed tore on Waidwen’s nerves, even if it was only a few seconds long. 

  
_I am sorry._ The apology caught Waidwen by surprise, it’s sincerity even more so. It left him floundering for an answer, as he wasn’t used to granting someone else forgiveness. That realization caused him more guilt than any other misdeed he’d ever regretted. He supposed the god of redemption was as good a place as any to start trying.

  
“Well, as long as we’re clear on that.” The presence flared up lightly and warmly, in what Waidwen could only assume was agreement. The foreign feeling still unnerved him, but the god kept his promise and remained as far to the edge of his consciousness as he could.

  
Uncomfortable with the silence and after having cleaned his bloodied knees as much as he could out in the field, Waidwen climbed to his feet and took a look around. He picked up his sickle and winced, when he saw the upturned basket. So much for that batch.

  
Apparently he’d been the lying in the field the whole night, as the dawn was already breaking, painting the horizon a soft red. Everything was glazed with a golden glow so vibrant even the withered vorlas seemed alive. If he hadn’t just reassured himself that his sight was his own again, he’d have thought it another one of Eothas’s effects. How it was, he could only question if the dawn had always been this beautiful and he’d just been too busy sulking to see it.

  
When he turned his back to the light this time, it was it wasn’t bitterness, but determination that filled him.


	3. Sirius

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The more I write, the further I feel I'm getting away from canon. But then I remember that there is almost no canon, so what am I getting away from?  
> Anyway, the last and longest chapter, I hope you like it!

The light of morn filled the sky and for the first time Waidwen had a purpose. Determinedly he made his way back home, no care for the crunch of wilted plants under his worn boots. The bronze sickle in his hand glinted in the slowly strengthening light of the rising sun.

  
Suddenly he froze in his tracks and frowned.

  
“What exactly are we doing?” He’d been so busy revelling in his new found purpose, that he hadn’t actually thought about, what said purpose was. He had a vague notion of something regarding freedom, but that was about it. Strangely enough he wasn’t terribly worried. That in itself caused suspicion to rise again, but when he checked, the presence was still at the edge of his mind, where he’d relegated it to. 

  
_I showed you before at our convergence, but perhaps it was foolish to expect you’d remember it through the ordeal._ The voice sounded entirely factual, still Waidwen felt vaguely insulted. He crossed his arms and, for lack of a proper visual target, stared angrily at the horizon.

  
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” There was a second of silence and Waidwen started to feel silly standing around and waiting for a response from someone he couldn’t see. He was also starting to miss facial expressions, which certainly wasn’t something he’d ever expected to miss. Usually he didn’t like looking at people, too much danger of being seen in return.

  
 _I... miscalculated. I have less experience with kith bodies than I should and failed to consider the consequences of our merging. Your collapse was the result of your body being overwhelmed by what I intended to offer you._ The tone remained as factual as before, but the energy at the back of Waidwen’s mind burned low, resembling a candle someone had put a glass over to suffocate it.

  
Waidwen didn’t know what to do with that. He wasn’t used to authority figures admitting mistakes, if that even was what was happening. No apology was spoken, yet there was a slight timbre of guilt resonating with the words, like a small, too high pitched bell causing dissonance in the harmony.

  
It was a strange feeling and made him uncomfortable, so he decided to ignore it and get back to the task at hand. Whatever the task was. He cleared his throat.

  
“Well, whatever it was, I don’t know now, so how about you start explaining.” The presence shifted a little, as if physically accommodating Waidwen’s wish to change the topic.

  
 _I could show you again._ Waidwen snorted and shook his head.

  
“Or you could just tell me and stay out of my head.” He hadn’t meant to sound quite so condescending, but the memory of the last episode was still fresh on his mind. The feeling of something forcefully grabbing hold of him, in whatever way, wasn’t something he had any desire to repeat. The energy flickered once, reminding Waidwen of a flame quivering in a strong wind.

  
 _I... suppose I can do that._ When nothing more followed those words, Waidwen realized the being might’ve been waiting for his permission. Only Waidwen didn’t really know how to give permission, no one had asked him before. His demand for privacy had come largely from the burst of adrenalin and anxiety in the moment, he hadn’t actually expected to be indulged to this degree. He’d believed the sincerity of the promise, but had apparently underestimated the dedication behind it.

  
“It’s still quite a way back home, so you have some time,” he said hesitantly, attempting to subtly cue the other one into talking, without making a fool of himself, should he be wrong. Not that Waidwen had much talent at deceiving anyone, much less a god. He’d never been one for subtlety, no matter how much he’d sometimes wished he was. He had the scars to prove it.

  
_I have never had need to put it into words._

  
“Then it’s high time to do it, don’t you think?” Waidwen could have sworn he heard a sigh, but how would that have made sense from an entity that had no need for breathing?

  
Another warm flicker caught his attention. And so Waidwen started walking again and the voice started explaining. How the god’s had come into existence, how they’d kept it secret for two thousand years and how he’d decided to right those wrongs. He kept some parts of it vague, like his own personal history or why now of all times, but that was fine, after all Waidwen had asked for privacy as well. At times the flame burnt brighter, with what Waidwen was starting to suspect was frustration, though with what specifically he wasn’t sure.

  
A lot of emotions filled Waidwen when the voice fell silent. Anger, confusion, and not a small amount of petty satisfaction at having been right. 

  
The rest of the way they walked in silence, each mulling in their own thoughts. Only when the farmhouse and adjoining barn came into sight, did Waidwen speak up again.

  
“So, first we kick the Aedyrans out of Readceras and then we move to the Dyrwood and reveal these ancient ruins along with their secrets.”

  
_That is the core of it, yes._

  
“And you came to me for it, instead of just doing it yourself, because you needed a kith for a proper symbolic act.” The thrum of energy at the back of Waidwen’s mind froze, and he smirked. Just because his education had only consisted of farming didn’t mean he was stupid. He also wasn’t egotistical enough to think this was about him. “It’s fine, I get it. You can’t expect a harvest without sowing the seeds first.”

  
The voice remained silent, but Waidwen could feel the presence relax a little. It made him giddy to think of the power he seemingly held over the god. Another sensation he wasn’t used to.

  
Shaking his head, he went the rest of the way, but hesitated in front of the door. How would he explain all this to mother? He thought about just glossing it over, but quickly decided against it. There was no point in hiding it from her when he had no intention of keeping it a secret anyway. He pushed the door open, steeling himself against the surely coming lecture. 

  
His mother was sitting at the table, her back to him, mending her good dress. She didn’t turn when Waidwen entered, though there was no way she hadn’t noticed the sudden light falling through the doorway and the creaking of the old wood. He quietly walked into the room, knowing that disturbing her would only make things worse. The presence dimmed somewhat, not wanting intrude further than necessary. Waidwen was thankful for it.

  
He put the sickle away and stashed the basket in the corner, waiting for her to finish. It didn’t take her long and she put down the dress, sighing.

  
“Where have you been?” she asked, voice low and already disappointed. He opened his mouth to answer, but she cut him off with a wave of her hand and finally got up to look at him. His mother was head shorter than Waidwen, but still she somehow managed to tower over him. Her hair, once a light brown much like his own, now streaked with so much grey the brown was hardly noticeable anymore, was pulled back into a tight braid, like it always was when she needed it out of her face. She only ever left it open for church.

  
“Have you been out drinking again?” She sounded like she’d already made up her mind. There were dark bags under her eyes, showing she probably hadn’t slept at night and Waidwen felt guilty under her piercing gaze. Though she was wrong this time, there’d been enough times she’d been right.

  
“At least you don’t reek of it this time. But what’ve you done to your clothes? And your hair for that matter, have you slept in the hay?” Waidwen drew his hand through his long hair and indeed pulled a few thin vorlas stems out. His shirt was stained from the sweat of the last day and lying face down in dirt all night hadn’t helped either. With everything going on he hadn’t actually noticed the grime.

  
“I’m sorry I worried you,” he conceded. Though they’d never seen eye to eye about his father, he’d never meant to hurt her. “But I swear, I wasn’t drinking!” He tried to continue, to explain himself, but his throat tightened and he found himself at a loss for words. Everything he thought about saying just sounded wrong. After a few very awkward seconds, in which his mother’s eyes got narrower and narrower, Waidwen just blurted out the bare truth.

  
“Yesterday Eothas appeared to me and-“ It happened so fast, Waidwen didn’t see it coming. From one second to the other his head was ripped to side and his cheek stung. It was more the surprise than the pain, that stunned him to silence.

  
His mother was breathing heavily, hand still raised from the slap, with eyes wide in anger.

  
“You dare to defile his divine name with your lies?! I know you had issues with your father, I tolerated your disrespectful attitude towards him, I even overlooked your blasphemous lifestyle and this dreadful hair, but this is too far!” Her eyes filled with tears. “I really thought we raised you better than this, I’m ashamed of you.” She turned away from him, voice tight with disappointment. “Get out of my sight.”

  
Something in Waidwen broke in that moment. Forgotten was the god in his head and their grand mission, all that remained was the knowledge, that now the only one he’d had left had rejected him too.

  
He turned and hurriedly left the house, feeling hot tears fill his eyes. Except, there was nowhere for him to go. In the end he resorted to his childhood hiding place, somewhere he hadn’t gone since his father had died. He stormed into the barn, slamming the door behind him, and crawled up into the rafters. Miraculously the ancient wooden planks still held, though he felt he wouldn’t have cared much in that moment if he’d fallen and broken his neck. 

  
Huddled into the corner, face buried in his knees and directly under the roof, Waidwen started sobbing. The pain in his cheek still burned hot. He’d had far worse from his father, but somehow this hurt more. His mother had never hit him before. She’d scolded him of course, and they’d grown further apart after his father’s death, but he’d never expected this. 

  
Shaking and gasping with sobs he didn’t notice the hesitant rising of the presence in him until he felt a soft warmth form at his back and he flinched. The warmth flickered once, but stayed, and Waidwen involuntarily relaxed a little. He couldn’t stop the tears quite yet, but at least he wasn’t choking anymore. When there was no objection, the warmth slowly spread further, making sure to give Waidwen time to stop it.

  
 _I like your hair._ The comment was so completely out of the blue and weirdly assuring, Waidwen couldn’t help but laugh, even as he was still crying.  
“Thanks,” he choked out, and they stayed in silence for the next few minutes, the warmth occasionally moving a little, as if trying to emulate a hand stroking his back, while Waidwen tried his damnedest to stop crying his soul out. He was a grown adult for fuck’s sake! 

  
At some point a tabby cat decided to join them. It walked confidently over the wooden beams and started rubbing it’s little head against Waidwen’s leg, until he uncurled enough for the cat to slip onto his lap and then loudly demand pets. He gave the cat a wet smile and stroked it’s back, causing it to purr loudly.

  
He’d found her out in the field a year ago and had named her Meow. He’d never been terribly creative. It had taken him more than a month of careful luring and small offers of milk to endear himself to her, but now she’d grown to be quite possessive of him. He’d always liked animals. They were simple to handle, you hurt them and they’d defend themselves, you were nice to them and they’d be nice to you, unlike kith. 

  
It took a while, but after some time he calmed down somewhat. The desperation was gone, instead he felt only emptiness. Meow’s soft fur under his hand, he could feel the last barrier in him crumble, from nothing but his own despondency. What was left was the stifling desire to talk to someone, anyone. And now there was really only one person left.

  
“Father always cut my hair off, when it grew it past my ears. So, when he died, I just left it to grow.” He didn’t know why that of all things was the first thing that came out of his mouth, but it relieved him to finally admit his own pettiness, and that was exactly what it was, the petty need to defy a dead man. 

  
The presence roiled, and for a second Waidwen tensed, expecting some form of reprimand for his childish behaviour, but it immediately settled again, sending another soothing wave of warmth down his back.

  
 _I think it’s fine._ The gentle affirmation made Waidwen want to cry again, but there was something strange in the voice, that made him pause. 

  
“That sounds like a ‘but’.” 

  
_No ‘but’, I promise._ Eothas was quick to assure him. A second of hesitance followed, but as soon as Waidwen’s anxiety rose again, the god continued. _I have a question, though I am not sure it is appropriate._

  
Waidwen frowned. A question not appropriate to a god? Though said god had been impressively accommodating... When he really thought about it, Waidwen found, he didn’t want to deny Eothas. The god had obeyed every single one of Waidwen’s requests, some of them not even spoken. And now that the world had crashed around him, he was still here, providing comfort Waidwen hadn’t known he needed. It didn’t erase all the times he hadn’t been there, and Waidwen still held some resentment for it, but there was also a certain trust forming that he couldn’t deny.

  
“Go for it,” he said, voice still heavy from crying. Meow, who had held still all the while, stretched and began wriggling her way out of Waidwen’s grasp. He let her go and she strutted off, presumably to catch herself some food. Speaking of, he could feel his stomach pulling painfully.

  
 _That, and before in the... field, when we merged, what is that?_ There was a short break when Eothas spoke, and Waidwen was sure he was about to say something other than field, but he was too distracted by the question itself to think about the wording. Chin on his knees he stared off into the middle distance, or rather to the other side of the barn, pondering what Eothas could possibly mean. 

  
“Wait, you mean pain?” Waidwen frowned. There was really nothing else the god could be talking about, and a slight flicker of warmth told him he’d guessed right, but he just couldn’t imagine not knowing what pain was. “Didn’t you say you were made from a bunch of people? Shouldn’t you know pain, then?”

  
_We were made from souls, yes, but regrettably, a lot of the souls’ kith aspects were lost in the process. It is part of the reason we are what we are today. Though I am... familiar with the concept._

  
Waidwen shook his head. As if pain was some sort of abstract idea and not just part of life. 

  
Eothas picked up on his confusion and tried to explain, but the difference in experiences made it difficult for both of them.

  
 _I have not had an actual body in a long time, physical pain is something I have never really experienced, only seen._ Waidwen was tempted to ask, what he meant with ‘in a long time’, but again that glimmer of trust made itself noticeable, and he decided to leave it for now. 

  
Besides, he was too exhausted for another life altering discovery today. His legs were starting to get sore from being crammed into a tiny corner for so long, but the rest of him felt too heavy to move. Spending the night unconscious on the hard ground was hardly restful, and now he was paying for it. Sobbing out all the energy he’d had left, certainly hadn’t helped either. Falling asleep up in the rafters didn’t sound like a terribly good idea though, and he tried his best to scratch together the energy to at least climb down.

  
 _Do you want me to help?_ A pleasant tingling through his legs accompanied the warm voice, making it even harder for Waidwen not to nod off, but it was too relieving for him to be mad about it.

  
“For someone who doesn’t feel pain, you’re sure good at making it go away,” he mumbled into his knees. He could hear Eothas chuckle softly, and it somehow felt like the dawn had looked, colourful and soothing.

  
 _I am a fast learner. And I have ironically learnt a lot from those who ask me for help._ It seemed like an admission, no matter how light-hearted, and Waidwen felt like he needed to follow it up with one of his own. He knew he didn’t have to, but it seemed like the right thing to do to his sleep deprived mind. 

  
“You know, I haven’t forgiven you yet.” There was no anger from Eothas at the confession, not even an attempt to defend himself, only quiet acceptance. Somewhere, at furthest corner of their connection Waidwen thought he sensed that strange dissonance again, but it was gone as quickly as it had come and he brushed it off as his tired imagination.

  
 _Forgiveness has to be earned, and I will do my best to do so._ Waidwen liked that sentiment, for both of them. 

  
But then there was still the issue of getting down, which he wanted to do less and less. His legs didn’t hurt anymore, so his motivation was even more diminished, and the exhaustion hung over him even stronger than before. And he really, really didn’t want to risk his mother finding him. 

  
He was pretty sure he hadn’t actually said anything, but Eothas seemed to understand nonetheless, wrapping him in a soft warmth, that spread all through his body. It made him feel far cosier than he had any right to be, pressed into a corner on an ancient wooden beam, directly under the ceiling.

  
 _Go to sleep, I will take care that you do not fall off._ Waidwen gladly accepted the offer. He knew rest would be sparse later, the people wouldn’t be as easily convinced as they’d hoped, like they had seen.

  
When Waidwen fell asleep, hidden from the world one last time, it was knowing that perhaps he’d lost everything that day, but the dawn of a new life was breaking, and he wouldn’t have to face it alone this time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. The chapters are named after the three brightest stars.


End file.
